Can I Save You?
by KaraAlissa
Summary: MI6 agent Patricia Robertson has worked her entire career to save the boy she loved. After what he had become was it even possible anymore? After he had gone so dark could she still save him? Bane/OC Takes place during Dark Knight Rises.
1. A Man Who Wants To Watch The World Burn

1Disclaimer: I do not own any Batman characters. They are the property of DC Comics. Please don't sue me. I only really own the character I made up, Patricia.

Patricia stood staring at the television in front of her desk. The MI6 badge, hanging from her belt loop, reflected the gruesome images that were now being broadcast to the entire world. It all started in an American city, at an American football game. A place where everyone thought they were safe, until a series of explosions caused the ground to crumble beneath the players, killing more than a few. That was when the scene was brought to her attention. Now, the entire department, including the Director of MI6, Samuel Wilson, were watching with bated breath. The crowd at the Gotham arena looked terrified, confused, and panicked as some ran for the exits.

"Gotham, take control... take control of your city. Behold, the instrument of your liberation!" A masked man, known to certain agencies simply as Bane, said, holing the microphone once belonging to the game referee. He had come out on the field surrounded by men with machine guns. A disheveled man was kneeling in front of Bane. His clothes were torn and ragged, his face dirty and worn, and he looked like he hadn't slept in days. "Identify yourself to the world. " His voice was muffled through the mask covering his face. His accent thick. Bane's brown eyes were focused on the man in front of him, on his knees. The football stadium was a mess. A bomb had gone off, several in fact. The mayor had been killed first, his VIP booth blown up. Then they cut Gotham off from the mainland. Every country in the world was coordinating with the American government. No one took terrorism lightly.

"I am Dr Leonid Pavel, a nuclear scientist." His voice shook as he looked up at his intimidating captor. Leonid Pavel had been missing, presumed dead for weeks.

"It's him." A man in Patricia's office yelled. "Our systems have a 100% facial recognition match, so do the yanks." Patricia Robertson couldn't tear her eyes away. She was now holding both sides of the desk in front of her. Hoping no one would notice the drastic change in her mood. The dark office, underground, was cold. Technology was the only light. When you worked with MI6, people didn't know where you were.

"What have you done to this device?" Bane asked, addressing the large piece of equipment that had been brought on the field behind him. Everyone in the office was quiet.

"I've turned it into a working nuclear bomb." Dr Pavel replied. An audible gasp ran through the office, and the air became tense. This wasn't threatening stadium of several thousand people, this was an entire large city, millions of people. The yanks were on the phones immediately.

"Who among the people in this city can disarm this device?" Bane asked.

"Only me..." The doctor replied. Patricia's breathing quickened. He couldn't be doing this.

"We need to get planes in the air." Their director was saying. "We need specialists in that city." He walked over to her. "Robertson." Patricia put her hand up and watched the screen.

"I highly doubt he's done sir." She said barely above a whisper.

"Only you... " Bane's voice echoed across the quiet stadium. "Thank you, good doctor." He reached for the older man and in mere seconds, the doctor lay dead. His neck broken. Patricia lowered her head. Screaming was now filling the stadium as people started to panic.

"Patricia, come on. Situation room." Director Wilson said quietly. She tore her eyes away from the brown eyes on the screen. The brown eyes with no compassion, with no love left in them. The situation room was quiet. A phone sat in the center of the room connecting them with the head of the Federal Bureau of Investigation and the President of the United States.

"Something must be done." The President was saying confidently. "We can not allow him to hurt any innocent civilians."

"Mr. President." The head of the FBI started. "We'll have to send in armies. We aren't sure how many men this terrorist has." Patricia winced, luckily, no one noticed. "The last Intel we received from the acting commissioner said that Bane's army was underground. The cops were going into the sewers to try to catch them."

"All of them?" Patricia asked.

"Gentleman, this is Patricia Robertson. She is one of our top agents. She specializes in terrorist cells. She's been looking for Bane for a number of years now."

"Yes, all the police miss Robertson." The FBI director stated. "All of them are trapped."

"My god." The President added, sullenly.

"Sir." Another MI6 agent had come in. "It's Bane sir."

"What is it?" The Wilson asked. Patricia could hear the other important men all getting similar notifications.

"He says that a civilian of Gotham is in control of the detonator. That if anyone military or any kind of police go into the city, or if any civilian tries to leave, even by swimming, the bomb will be triggered."

"How serious is he?" Wilson asked Patricia. She had both hands on the desk as if concentrating.

"Director Parsons." She called, asking for the head of the FBI.

"Yes ma'am."

"You said acting commissioner earlier. What happened to the original?"

"Commissioner Gordon was taken into the sewers, some time ago. He managed to escape but not before being shot by Bane's men. Another officer, uh, John Blake, found him and took him to the hospital. That's where he's been ever since. He had said something about an underground army, but no one took him seriously until the board of a major company was taken."

"What company?" Patricia asked.

"Uh, Wayne Enterprises." She could tell he was reading from a police report. "They took three of the board members."

"Where are the board members now?" Wilson asked.

"Still missing." Parsons responded.

"Get information to them in any way possible." Patricia said quickly. "The cops that were off that day and are still in the upper city, tell them to be careful. Whatever they plan they need to not draw attention to the fact that they're cops. Bane is rallying people against the local government, and that's going to be the police." She paused. "Also, we need to figure out what's so special about Wayne Enterprises, why members of that board. Why only 3?"

"Miss Robertson." The President said.

"Yes, sir." She replied.

"You seem to know this man well. Is his threat credible?"

"Extremely." Patricia answered, her stomach ached just thinking about it.

"We just received some news." Parsons announced. "Bane and his men will allow food and other provisions to be brought into the city."

"That's one way in." Wilson stated. "We send in agents with food trucks. No badges, no weapons, different ID's"

"Another message we need to get in there." Patricia said pulling up files on the computer screen in front of them. "Any socialites in Gotham. They need to hide."

"Hide?" Parsons asked, quizzically.

"Yes. Bane is acting very anti-establishment. The idea the upper class having everything, in abundance, while beggars have nothing repulses him. He wants a revolution." She kept looking through files, bringing up one. "Like this guy." His file name was Bruce Wayne." She paused. A pang of recognition shot through her, but she pushed it aside. "How heavily is Mr. Wayne still associated with Wayne Enterprises?"

"Very." Parson's replied.

"He has to hide. Anyone with large amounts of money, anyone who worked in any type of government; tell them to find safety and shelter. For now, their old lives are gone." She pulled up more files, the board of directors for Wayne Enterprises. Lucius Fox, Miranda Tate. Patricia's eyes narrowed.

"Is everything alright?" Director Wilson asked.

"Yeah." She shook the feeling. Their was something in that woman's eyes she knew, she just couldn't place it.

"This is the town with that Batman fellow, correct?" Wilson asked.

"Yes, this is the place." Parsons replied.

"Where is he? Does anyone know how to get in touch with him?"

"He came back for a while but after that he was gone."

"Gone?" Patricia asked.

"No one has seen him in some time, no one knows why." The President added.

"Bane probably did something with him before this whole charade." Parsons replied. Director Wilson changed the screen from computer mode to television mode and every news station in every language was replaying Bane's announcements. A picture was brought up on the screen of just Bane and Patricia could feel her blood go cold.

"I'm going." She said simply.

"Excuse me?" Her director asked.

"I'm going to try to get into Gotham with the other agents. I know this guy better than almost anyone."

"Parsons. One of my best agents is coming to the States with me."

"We look forward to the expertise Miss Robertson."

Patricia's eyes looked back toward the screen. Bane's face was still on the screen and she had to look away. She was trying to find him to save him. Now what could she do?

Patricia's heart pounded in her chest as she ran down the cobblestone streets of Italy. She'd always wanted to see Italy. Growing up in the UK gave her a lot of opportunities, but for one reason or another, she never took them. Now, she didn't have time to stop and see it. They thought they were going to be there for at least a month, but their young looks had drawn too much suspicion.

"I can't do it anymore." Dominic's eyes were contorted in pain. A towel was pulled across his face, hiding things he didn't want to show. "I don't have anymore medicine." Patricia could see tears falling from his eyes as pain raked his body.

"Please, we have to keep going." She begged him.

"I'm sorry." His soft hand touched her face.

"Don't move." She said quickly, her eyes darting around. They were behind an empty stand. The proprietor must have left for an early lunch. "Stay here and don't make a sound."

"No, Tricia, don't." Not listening, she jumped up and ran to the other side of the road near a fountain. She could see the men running through the city of Rome, looking for them. They caught her eye and she took off, drawing them away from Dominic. She ran through the city, the two men tearing after her. She had turned around for a moment looking at the, now only one, man running behind her when two strong arms grabbed her around the waist.

"Let me go!" she shouted.

"Where is he?" The man had a gun to her head. Several locals screamed and ran into their homes.

"He's already gone." Patricia lied.

"Damn it!" The second man said, his voice strained from the running. "We have to bring him back or we'll be stuck in there."

"Where was he going!" The first man screamed.

"Why would you ever think that I'd tell you?" Her British accent was thick and she was speaking through clenched teeth.

"Because if you don't he'll come back to nothing but your blood splattered on the ground." She heard the safety of the gun click off and felt the cold barrel against her head. She closed her eyes. The next thing she felt was the man being forcefully pulled off of her. She heard a groan as one of the men was shoved to the ground. She saw the gun slide under a stand she dove for it. When she finally had it in her hands and she turned around the two men were both on the ground. The man who originally had the gun was trying to stop his nose from bleeding. The other was helping his friend to his feet. Dominic stood a few feet away from her, staring menacingly at the men. His towel had fallen and the men were looking in horror upon his face. A mask was covering his mouth and nose, a dark black mask that contrasted with his pale skin. It looked primitive. The first man finally got to his feet, his nose still bleeding.

"Their is a heavy price on your head boy, you have a debt to pay and you've been avoiding it for too long."

"If you know what's good for you, you will run as fast as you can." Dominic's hand was shaking, no matter how hard he tried to keep it steady. Only Patricia noticed.

"We'll be back. Someone will get you. And you will spend your life in that prison, while your pretty little girl plays with us." Dominic screamed and pulled the gun from Patricia's hand. He aimed.

"Don't." Patricia pleaded. "Don't become what they want you to be." His brown eyes, the same shade as hers, focused on her then the men.

"Run." They didn't wait. They turned and moved as fast as they could. As soon as they were out of eye range Dominic fell. Patricia helped him to rest against a wall. The amount of pain he was in had to be almost unbearable. Older men and women had come over.

"Is he alright?" A man asked, kneeling beside him. He was the only one who came close enough to speak to them, everyone else was weary, looking at his mask. Patricia could see that the mask needed repairing.

"I need medicine. A type of anesthetic." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper and some money. "Can you or anyone get me this? I have money." The man quickly spoke in Italian calling over a younger boy handing him the paper and currency he whispered something before the kid ran off.

"Dominic." She said softly. His eyes fluttered open. "I have to take off your mask." He nodded. "Will you hold his hand?" She asked the older man and he immediately did. Patricia pulled off his mask and he let out a animal like moan. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry my love." She was trying to fix it as quickly as possible. His body was shaking from pain and he looked as if he would pass out at any moment. The boy ran up with the medicine, and she added it to his mask. She went to put the mask back on but he grabbed her hand and pulled her close. "I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner."

"Don't say that. You saved me. I'm going to get you out of this, one way or another." He kissed her softly, but she felt his body shudder under the pain. Fixing the mask to his face a look of serenity came over him. She could tell he was close to passing out.

"Tricia..." He said, his eyes closing. "Tricia.."

"Patricia." She was pulled quickly out of her haze. She was trying to hold onto that image. The scariest and best time of her life. She would give anything to go back there again.

"You seemed to be in your own little world." Wilson commented. They were flying on a plane to Washington D.C.

"Just planning, sir." She replied.

"I know it's a great risk going in there."

"You have no idea, sir." She added, looking out the plane window. In a few hours she would be touching down in the DC airport. Then on to the White House situation room to make a plan on how to attack and kill the person she worked her entire career to free.


	2. How He Came To Be

Disclaimer: I do not own any Batman characters. They are the property of DC Comics. Please don't sue me. I only really own the character I made up, Patricia.

The airport was quiet, Patricia had never seen an airport that quiet. Still filled with people, they were huddled around televisions watching Bane's latest statement. Patricia and Wilson paused.

"Behind you stands a symbol of oppression; Blackgate Prison, where a thousand men have languished under the name of this man..." He was holding up a picture. The man had blonde hair and a kind smile. "Harvey Dent, who has been held up to you as the shining example of justice."

"Who is Harvey Dent sir?" Patricia asked.

"The old DA. He was said to have been killed by Batman." Wilson replied.

"You have been supplied with a false idol to stop you from tearing down this corrupt city. Let me tell you the truth about Harvey Dent from the words of Gotham's police commissioner, James Gordon." Bane continued. Patricia saw a woman in the airport crying. Her dirty blonde hair was hanging at her face and two kids were sitting on either side of her. A teenage girl, blue streaks in her naturally blonde hair, had her head in her mothers shoulder. The teenage boy, however, the same blonde hair as his mom's was staring intently at the television. The mention of Commissioner Gordon's name catching his attention and causing his knuckles to turn white. "'The Batman didn't murder Harvey Dent, he saved my boy then took the blame for Harvey's appalling crimes so that I could, to my shame, build a lie around this fallen idol. I praised the mad man who tried to murder my own child but I can no longer live with my lie. It is time to trust the people of Gotham with the truth and it is time for me to resign.' " The woman cried harder.

"This is going to turn into a shit storm." Wilson said, his hand was tapping his belt. A nervous twitch he had adopted when he was promoted to director.

"And do you accept this man's resignation? Do you accept the resignation of all these liars? Of all the corrupt?"

"What's he getting at?" Wilson asked. Patricia felt her arms shaking.

"What ever it is, sir. It's nothing good."

"We take Gotham from the corrupt! The rich! The oppressors of generations who have kept you down with myths of opportunity, and we give it back to you... the people. Gotham is yours. None shall interfere. Do as you please. Start by storming Blackgate, and freeing the oppressed!" Bane continued. "Step forward those who would serve. For and army will be raised. The powerful will be ripped from their decadent nests, and cast out into the cold world that we know and endure. Courts will be convened. Spoils will be enjoyed. Blood will be shed. The police will survive, as they learn to serve true justice. This great city... it will endure. Gotham will survive!" As he finished his speech, the cameras quickly moved. A tank had a gun pointed at them. The camera dropped and there was a moment of static as a loud bang sounded through it's microphones.

"My God!" The cameraman must have been the one talking. The camera pointed at a now gaping hole in the side of a wall. For a moment there was just dust settling, but then men, by the dozens, wearing orange jumpsuits came storming through. The camera cut off and a reporter came quickly into view. Sitting in a studio, she was claiming technical difficulties.

"At least we know the police are safe for right now." Patricia commented. "Down in those sewers, they might not be able to help, but the prisoners can't get to them either."

"We should be going." Wilson stated and Patricia followed them to get their luggage.

The sunlight was almost painful after being in the artificial light of the airport. A young man walked up to them, he couldn't have been more than 21. He looked like how television and movies think FBI agents should look. He was dressed in a black suit, black tie, and dark sunglasses. His light blonde hair almost looked out of place.

"Mr. Wilson? Miss. Robertson?" He asked.

"Mr. Tiller?" Wilson replied and the kid nodded before smiling. Patricia could tell he was wearing a gun on his hip and another on his ankle. He graciously picked up Patricia's bag and lead them to a black SUV. Patricia climbed in the back and rested her elbows on her knees. She cocked her head to the side once the vehicle started moving through the city. DC looked normal, despite the crisis in Gotham. People went in and out of grocery shops, moms took their children into daycare, and college kids went into bars for an early drunk. She couldn't imagine what the people of Gotham were experiencing. As far as she knew no one had left the city, the military wasn't letting anyone across the only bridge left and the tunnels out of the city had been blocked. The SUV they were in came to a standstill and Patricia sat up.

"I'm sorry." Tiller said quickly. "It's about that time. Traffic can come to a crawl or worse sometimes. I'll have us there as soon as I can." Patricia let her body fall against the comfortable seats. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Bane. The current Bane, cold, heartless. She closed her eyes anyway. Nightmares had stopped her normal sleep pattern. Well, what she called a normal sleep pattern. Going from 4 hours a night to 1 was just unhealthy. A thought popped into her head as she felt the seat behind her, a memory.

"How long have we been running for?" Patricia asked. She was sitting in a chair in a very small hotel room in Berlin, Germany.

"2 years?" Dominic replied. "You were 14 when we left."

"Then two years." Patricia commented.

"You should have stayed to finish school." Dominic's voice sounded sad. He was laying on the hotel room bed. He body was tired, they had been in China the previous morning, and his belt had been taken off. As long as he didn't move the pain would stay at bay.

"What happened to you?" Patricia asked. She could see a flash of pain cloud his eyes. Not physical pain, mental. "You've never told me."

"I didn't want to scare you." He said quietly. Patricia stood up and moved to the opposite side of the bed, trying her best not to move the matress very much she laid down beside him. She heard him sigh.

"I was three or four. My mom woke me up late one night. I remember my room was so dark. She told me to hide under the bed. Men had broken into our home. I could hear stomping, a-and shouting. The men burst into the room. They found me, quickly. When they pulled me out from under the bed my mom began fighting." He took a ragged breath and Patricia felt his hand softly grasp hers. "She was so strong. She attacked the guy who was holding me. I think she stabbed him with something, but he was strong. He pulled me to the window. My room was on the second floor. He shouted something down, in a language I didn't understand. Then he dropped me." Patricia inhaled sharply. Her eyes were wide and she squeezed his hand, urging him to continue. "I felt an excruciating pain shoot down my back and I cried out, but as soon as I screamed a boot was put on my face. Someone trying to keep me quiet. I felt like I was suffocating and I tried kicking and pushing, but whenever I moved the pain was horrible. I saw my mom sneaking around the side of the house. The man holding me didn't." His eyes looked as if he was in a far off place. "I could feel warm blood running down my face mixing with tears. My mom jumped on the man. They fell into the darkness of the back yard and I tried to get up, call after her but all that came out was a scream. It hurt so bad that I passed out. When I woke up I was in a living room I didn't recognize and my mom was sitting a chair next to me. I felt so weak that I couldn't move. Mom told me not to."

"Where were you?" Patricia asked.

"A doctor friend of my moms. He told her my back was severely broken and would never be the same. The only thing they could do is keep giving me pain killers. I would never get better. The anesthetic they were using just made me tired. It was the only time I wasn't in pain. We stayed there until I was healed enough to move then we were on the run."

"Why?" Patricia asked. "Why are these men after you?"

"My father owes a debt." Dominic said with a sarcastic smile. "He offered me. That I be put in a prison instead of him."

"He can't do that!"

"Where he's from, he can. I am suppose to rot in prison for him." Patricia moved closer to him and rested her forehead against his shoulder. "They started catching up to us when I was eight. My mom knew we couldn't keep running."

"That's when you guys came to us." Patricia remembered. "You were about 8 then."

"My mom knew your parents from a long time ago. When she left me there I was barely coherent. I remember the news story your dad brought into me saying she was found dead."

"I'm sorry Dominic." Patricia said softly.

"You saved me." He was looking at her.

"Not yet." She replied seriously. I am going to get you out of this. In one way or another." She felt his hand squeeze hers as he closed his eyes.

Patricia's door opened and the bright light was almost blinding.

"Sorry if I woke you." Tiller said shyly.

"I wasn't sleeping." Patricia replied stepping out of the car. She fixed her blazer and followed Wilson into a back entrance to the white house. She was immediately searched. They were led into the heart of the famous residence and down toward a basement. The situation room there was white and very well lit, a stark contrast MI6. FBI director Parsons was there to greet them and they took two seats around a large table. The secretary of defense as well as the president were among the people chosen to decide what to do about Bane.

"Wilson, you seemed to have an idea over the phone. What was it?" Parsons asked.

"I think we should send men in with the food. Workers will have to drive the food in to the city. It should be special forces, a chosen few. We take their badges, give them different ID's, and send them in."

"The first rations will go in next week." Parsons commented.

"With all do respect sir." Patricia started. "We should not make a move that quickly."

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"I mean that Bane's men will be weary of any workers coming into the city. They'll expect cops. They need to be the same rotations of workers. The special forces and myself-"

"You think you're going in there?" Parsons asked.

"I know I'm going in there." Patricia answered. "I know Bane better than any of you. I've studied him. I'm also trained in the field." No one said anything. "Now, the special forces soldiers and myself should go every time for a few months. We need the men checking out the trucks to recognize us. Think that we're normal civilians who won't do anything."

"Alright, Robertson." The President said carefully. "Then you start your mission next week."

"Yes, sir." Patricia replied.

The days and planning ticked away slowly. Patricia's ID read 'Megan O'Reilly' and their first trip into Gotham was rapidly approaching. She guessed they figured she could pass for Irish with her red hair. They had picked several special forces officers that would rotate in and out. Communications with the saved commissioner Gordon as well as his detective had been made. They grocery shop they were going to had a back room where they would meet.

The ride across the bridge was slow and nerve racking. Patricia's driver was nervous and they were stopped before crossing completely. Men dressed for gorilla warfare checked their ID's. One eyed Patricia suspiciously.

"Ireland?" He asked, looking at her ID.

"Ey." she answered quickly.

"Why are you here?" He asked. She took notice of the machine gun hanging off of his shoulder.

"I came for the American dream." Her Irish accent flowed. She had practiced for weeks. "Didn't turn out as I expected." He laughed and Patricia felt her body slightly relax as he handed her ID back and let them pass. The shop was half stocked when they arrived. As the truck began unloading the man at the counter signaled Patricia to head to the back. She was unnaturally nervous and could hear her heart beating. He was somewhere in this city. Somewhere closer than they'd been in a long time. The first person she saw had dark hair and matching eyes. He was younger but his eyes looked hardened. Immediately he walked up to her.

"John Blake." He said while shaking her hand.

"Gordon's detective." Patricia said returning the handshake. "Patricia Robertson, MI6."

"Good to meet you." He said hurried.

"You'll see me every time a delivery is made. We're trying to get the guards use to us, to trust us. Eventually we'll come in with more power and some of us will start to stay, build up as many men as possible."

"We need all the help we can get."

"Try to keep people calm." Patricia said softly. "Hopefully people won't fall for Bane's ploy. Stay hidden and get as many high standing members of Gotham society to hide as well. You'll see me soon."

"Thank you."

"Good luck, Blake."


	3. I Will Find You

Disclaimer: I do not own any Batman characters. They are the property of DC Comics. Please don't sue me. I only really own the character I made up, Patricia.

The months moved slowly. Snow had started falling and the river had begun to freeze. A "court" of people were executing the upper class of Gotham by pushing them out onto the ice and letting them fall through. A lot of people remained in their homes, praying no one would come for them. A few of the city had followed Bane's rhetoric, following baser, jealousy filled instincts.  
\- - - - - - - - -

"Mum." Patricia called. She was 7 years old and her mom was making her a sandwich.

"Yes sweetie?" Her mom answered.

"Why can't the boy in the upstairs room play?" The little girl asked innocently.

"He's sick, sweetie."

"But he's been inside the entire year he's been here mum."

"I know, but we mustn't bother him, darling." She handed the girl the sandwich, and although the girl stayed quiet, her mind was still working. She had heard the boy cry before and her mom or dad would take a syringe full of something into the room and he was quiet for days. The only time she ever saw him was when he would leave his room to take a bath or use the lav. He walked funny and always had his face covered. She decided it was time to figure out who this boy was. She walked quietly upstairs when her mom was watching TV. Her dad was out for the day. The door to his room was at the end of the hallway and Patricia tiptoed toward it. She turned the door knob as silently as she could. The little boy was laying in the bed facing away from her. He had light brown hair and she gasped at the sight of a long scar down his back. Startled, he turned toward her but his face contorted in pain and he started to cry.

"Please don't cry." She said quickly, running over. "Please? My mum will come up here and she'll make me leave, but I want to talk to you."

"I-it h-hurts to t-talk." he said through tears. "Please g-get your mum." he begged and Patricia ran back downstairs.

"Mum! The boy is crying again." She called. Her mom was immediately on her feet. Going into the kitchen she grabbed a syringe and headed upstairs. This time, Patricia followed her. The mom quickly injected the boys arm and he stopped crying.

"What's wrong with him mum?" Patricia asked, scared. She was holding onto the door frame.

"Patricia, go downstairs." Her mother ordered.

"Please don't make her leave." The little boy said, his voice sleepy. Her mother held out her hand and Patricia walked over.

"Sweetie, this is Dominic." her mother said softly.

"Dominic, this is my daughter Patricia." He held out his hand and she shook it. Every day after that Patricia found herself spending more and more time in the upstairs bedroom.

"You're always so tired." Patricia complained one day. It has been several years and the two had become close friends.

"It's the medicine." Dominic explained. They can't give it to me in little doses, they have to give me a full dose at a time and it makes me tired."

"What if you could get it a little at a time?" Patricia said, having an idea.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"I'll be back." She left the house and quickly went to her fathers work. She wondered what would happen if they put the medicine he needs in an inhaler, that way he could take a small amount when he needed it rather than a huge dose and being tired all the time.

"Sweetie, he needs to have some in his system all the time." Her dad explained.

"Ok, but what if he wears something, a mask with the inhaler in it that can be refilled and it continuously gives him a little bit of medicine?" Her father smiled at her.

"That just might work sweetie." The two of them worked through the night to come up with a primitive mask, so he would never be in pain.  
\- - - - - - - - -

"Robertson." Wilson called. She had been sitting at her desk. "We have a meeting to go to." They were led back into the situation room.

"We just received a call from John Blake. He could only be on the phone for moments, but he says he needs strong agents in there. Now." Parsons said urgently.

"After five months, why now?" Wilson asked.

"I'm not sure, but it sounded urgent. We're sending a special forces lieutenant in. His name is Jones. Robertson, we want you in there too."

"Yes sir." Patricia replied.

"This might be it. The trucks will head across the bridge tomorrow at 1100." Robertson's mind raced. If tomorrow was it, then she would be seeing Bane very soon.

Miranda Tate walked through a desolate apartment. Once belonging to a rich family, it was now empty and they were now dead. The phone in the next room rang and she smiled, walking over to answer it.

"Hello." She said confidently. His voice came muffled.

"Where are they hiding."

"My friend. We are in the top floor of the library. There is an elevator. A bunch of people are hiding there."

"Why tomorrow?" Bane asked curiously.

"A detective named John Blake is bringing a group of special forces to us. The beginning of their team to take you down. They would be a perfect group for you to make an example of."

"I think they would. You will be brought to the courthouse if you are caught but I will be there."

"I trust you will, my darling. The plan is working perfectly. Wayne is probably begging for death as we speak." Bane was silent. "Till tomorrow my love." She hung up the phone and Bane stared out the window into the night. She wasn't suppose to call him love. He hated being called love. Only one person ever used that... 

"It's you!" The young girl he had saved from prison ran up to him and hugged him tightly. He pushed aside the pain and let her. She brought him to a chair to sit. "Why are you wearing that mask?" She asked.

"It helps control the pain I feel." He explained. The girl was almost 4 years older. Around the age of 15, she was starting to look like her father. "Thank you for sending your father to find me." He stood and shook Raz Au Gul's hand. "Thank you."

"We can train you." Talia said smiling. "We can teach you to fight."

"There is someone I need to find." Dominic answered. "I will come back, but I must find her."

"Her?" Talia asked. A flick of something malicious flashed in her eyes. "Who's her?"

"A friend. Her name is Patricia." He explained, a smile showing in his eyes and behind him Talia smirked.

"Patricia Robertson?" she asked. Dominic immediately rounded on her. "How do you know that name?" He asked quickly.

"I met her." She said, putting on her best sad act. "She came looking for you. She found the prison and was petitioning to have you freed about two months ago."

"What happened? Where is she?" his eyes looked frantic.

"These men, they claimed to be the ones who took you, attacked her in the market place. She was killed." Dominic fell to his knees. He tried so hard to stay alive. He just wanted to see her again. Tears were falling freely from his eyes.

"Where is she buried?" He asked.

"Her body was thrown in a river." Talia replied, still smirking. "I'm sorry."

"Now is not a time for tears." Raz said strongly. "Now is a time for learning and discipline. You will train. You will fight."

"We have to find a different name for you." Talia said quickly. "You're still a wanted man. Dominic is dead."

"Bane." Raz said confidently. "We will call you Bane." 

Now he was sitting in a dark room, Raz's final plan close to coming to fruition. Patricia's face flashed into his mind, but he quickly pushed it away. He didn't want to now what she would think about what he had done, but she was gone. Whoever Dominic was had died with her. Talia, or Miranda had been there for him.  
\- - - - - - - - -

Patricia waited anxiously for the truck to cross the bridge. Jones was in the truck behind her and her mind had been going a million miles a minute. She kept replaying the last time she saw Bane over and over in her head. 

The hotel room in Barcelona was dark. Dominic was laying on his back again, his belt that gave him support was on the floor and his mask was off. They had thought they were safe so she had been able to give him a full dose of medicine and his mask lay forgotten as he drifted to sleep. For an hour she just laid next to him, looking at his features. Memorizing everything. She had been losing sleep trying to figure out how to get him out of this debt. She put her arm across his chest and if by instinct his hands grabbed her arm. She curled into him, kissing his neck.

"Goodnight my love." She said quietly. Her eyes seemed to have just closed when she was jolted awake. The hotel room door was broken open and three man stood with guns pointed at them. Dominic immediately stood up to attack the guy closest while Patricia had reached for a knife under her pillow and threw it towards the third man in the room. It hit and the man slumped against the wall. However, as soon as Dominic stood up the pain was too much and he collapsed. Not wearing his belt or mask he was at a loss.

"Dominic!" Patricia screamed. The second guy caught her as she was moving toward Dominic, now laying on the floor. He caught her across the face with a punch then a baseball bat to her ribs. She fell. Her eyes caught Dominic's. He looked terrified. Not for himself, for her. The two men started to pick him up. He fought, but it was a losing battle.

"Dominic..." Her voice was weak. She could tell her ribs were broken. The third man had pulled her knife out of his shoulder and was now standing over her. "I'll find you Dominic, I promise."

"I love you." His voice was strained but she heard him clearly. The first two men pulled Dominic out of the room and the third man got to his knees and turned her over. Climbing on top of her she could smell booze and cheap cigarettes.

"You'll never see him again." The man said, his accent was hard to place, but she knew it was middle eastern. "I'll make sure of that." The man was too distracted to notice she had been reaching under the hotel bed. Grabbing a gun she quickly pointed it at him and fired. She could feel blood spatter on her, but it didn't matter. She stood up as quickly as possible, ignoring the shooting pains from her broken ribs. She tore out of the hotel room and toward the parking lot. The van containing her life was already out of the parking lot. It was too far to make out a license plate.

"DAMN IT!" She screamed. Tears were falling down her face as she watched the van drive away. Years passed as she searched. She couldn't find any record of him or where he was being held. Finally a break. Rumors of a girl born in hell. Stories of a protector with a scar along his back. She tracked the stories to an ancient part of the world. Standing in a market place she could see a pit in the distance. She stopped at a stand.

"English?" She asked and the man nodded. "What can you tell me about that prison?" She pointed.

"That is hell. Men are thrown in there to suffer and die." He kept his eyes averted from hers.

"I need to get a man out of there."

"How do you expect to do that?" A young girl asked her. Taken by surprise she turned. The girl couldn't have been more than 14 or 15.

"Who are you?" Patricia asked.

"I think the better question would be, who are you trying to rescue?" The girl asked. Her dark brown hair shined in the sunlight.

"His name is Dominic." Patricia noticed the girls eyes narrow.

"Who are you?" The young girl asked.

"My name is Patricia Robertson. I have money, I just need to get him out."

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that." The girl said with a smirk.

"What are you going to do?" Patricia asked. The girl snapped her fingers and 4 men surrounded them.

"I will make you disappear." She said with a smile. Patricia must have been hit on the head. The next thing she knew she woke up in water. She noticed the red glow around her. At first she panicked, wondering where she was hurt. However, she soon realized she wasn't bleeding. She had been thrown into the red sea. Some called it the cursed sea. When the algae died they glowed red, giving the body of water its name. She just started swimming. She seemed to swim for hours and when she had given up she felt someone pull her from the water. She could only make out dark hair.

"You're going to be alright." He said softly. The days and nights seemed to melt together as she went in and out of consciousness. She woke up in a German hospital, and her dad was at her bedside.

"What happened?" She asked. Her father was immediately hugging her.

"You were found floating in the Red Sea." He pulled away but held onto her hand. "You had been beaten badly and were suffering from exposure but someone found you and brought you here."

"Who?"

"We don't know. You've been gone for so long Patricia." His voice was full of concern as she tried desperately to remember the man's face who pulled her from the water. Kind eyes, worn but strong. A headache threatened and she softly rubbed her forehead. "The doctors weren't sure you would make it, but here you are."

"I have to go back." Patricia said quickly sitting up. The pain stopped her from standing.

"Are you crazy?" Her dad placed his hands on her shoulder, keeping her from moving.

"I found where they're keeping Dominic, dad. I have to get him. I promised him that I would save him and he's been in that prison for years." She saw her dad reluctantly nod his head.

It was days before she was able to leave the hospital, but she was on the first plane out. Her body was black and blue and walking hurt, but she didn't care. She needed to get to him. The small town hadn't changed. The same man was at his little stand and his eyes widened when he saw her.

"You should not be here." He said in a hurried whisper.

"I am here to get my friend."

"The man with the scar on his back?" Her eyes widened.

"Yes, where is he?"

"Gone."

"Gone?" her voice caught in her throat and she could feel her heartbeat.

"The girl and her father. They took him. They left the country." It was as if someone had hit her. She was so close and someone took him away. She left for home with her father. No one knew anything about the young girl, if they did they weren't talking. She wanted to regroup. Start from scratch. It was only a few months later that she started hearing the reports. A masked mercenary. Cold blooded, evil, killed at random. She didn't think it could be him until she saw the picture. That was when Patricia started her police career. How better to keep tabs on, and get close to, Bane then be in charge of trying to catch him.


	4. Into The City

Disclaimer: I do not own any Batman characters. They are the property of DC Comics. Please don't sue me. I only really own the character I made up, Patricia.

The officers crossed the bridge and were in the city with no problem. The man at the bridge even smiling at Patricia, completely unaware of who she really was. The trucks pulled up to the same little grocery shop. However, now the only food they had was currently on the truck. Patricia went behind the counter followed by Jones and two other special forces agents.

"Do you have ID's?"

"Of course not." Jones said stubbornly.

"Then how can we trust you?" Another cop said. Patricia just watched the exchange in silence, standing beside Blake. The two's annoyance was apparent. There was no time to be arguing amongst each other.

"We just have to trust each other." It was commissioner Gordon. A few more exchanged occurred before Patricia could take it anymore.

"Commissioner." Patricia said loudly shaking his hand. It made everyone else shut up.

"Miss Robertson. I've heard good things about you." He answered with a kind smile.

"There's someone you guys have to meet. Then you'll understand our situation." Blake said. The 4 officers followed Blake to a downtown library. They moved in small groups, slowly, always looking around corners before getting to the actual building. "I found them living up here." Blake remarked.

"Who?" Jones asked.

"The board of Wayne Enterprises." He replied walking a head of them. He nodded to a cop who let them enter an elevator. Patricia recognized the people sitting on the ground in front of them. Lucius Fox and Miranda Tate. Another shiver went up Patricia's spine as she saw Miranda. Why couldn't she place her? She came back to the conversation.

"As CEO of Wayne Enterprises we have to take full responsibility." Miranda was saying.

"Why?" Jones asked.

"We built it." She replied.

"You built a nuclear bomb?" Jones asked, shocked.

"We built a device for clean energy." Lucius started to say. Patricia's eyes scanned the room, looking at all the people living in this space. A far cry from their upper west side apartments. She caught the gist of the conversation and the main problem: The bomb was going to go off, no matter what, in 23 days unless the nuclear core was hooked back up to the reactor. She didn't need to here more. Idle conversation was just wasting time.

"Hey." Jones touched Patricia's arm. "We have to head back and regroup."

"I'll stay here with Blake." Patricia said quickly. They headed out through the elevator. The doors barely closed when someone started firing. Immediately Blake and Patricia had guns out.

"Someone sold us out. Let's go." He grabbed Miranda.

"I have to go back for Jones and the others." Patricia said, she headed for the elevator and ducked in, narrowly avoiding a bullet. As she went down a floor she put a new clip in her gun, her heart pounding against her chest. She heard the ding as the doors opened. There he was. Bane was kneeling on Jones neck. The other two special forces officers were dead.

"The board of Wayne Enterprises was living upstairs." She heard a man say to Bane. She held up her gun and walked out of the elevator slowly. Immediately 5 guns were on her. Bane stood up, Jones was dead.

"Hang these men for the world to see." He said before turning toward her. Everything seemed to slow down if not stop entirely. Patricia could hear her heart beating in her ears as their eyes connected.

"Wait." He called when one man was about to fire. Bane walked toward her. "I know you."

"I knew you." She whispered. "You've changed your mask." His eyes were wide. She had a gun pointed at his heart.

"You're dead."

"I'm very much alive." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Sir." One of his men called. He turned and in a split second she dove out the window. Landing on pavement she rolled and turned around. Bane was staring at her, an expression of profound sorrow on his face. She ran. Ran as fast as she could. Back to the same little grocery store. Blake, Gordon, and Miranda was already there.

"We thought we lost you." Gordon said before hugging her. She couldn't talk. Her heart was still pounding. He was still in there. She was prepared to see a cold, heartless shell of what Dominic once was, but she didn't.

"What happened?" Blake asked. He could tell something was wrong.

"Jones and the others are dead, killed by Bane and his men." She replied. Her voice shaking.

"How did you get out?" Miranda asked.

"I jumped out a window." Patricia replied, not looking at her. "What's the plan?"

"We're going to mark the truck containing the bomb." Blake answered. "I also think I've found a way to start getting men out of the sewers." He laid out a plan involving one of the cities sewer drains and a bomb. The guards would just have to be distracted.

"We only have a few days left and Lucius Fox has been kidnapped. Let's get get some rest. There is nothing more that we can do tonight." Gordon said calmly. "We'll meet here tomorrow. Miranda you and Blake come with us." Gordon and Blake brought the girls to a small apartment. Miranda immediately took a shower, but Patricia sat staring out the window.

"What's on your mind?" Blake asked, sitting next to her.

"Bane's eyes." She answered truthfully.

"Excuse me." Blake said, shocked.

"I've studied Bane for a long time. I expected to look at him and see nothing but hatred and evil."

"You didn't?"

"It's complicated, John."

"Why don't you tell me?" Patricia heard the shower shut off.

"Another time John." She stood up. "Please don't tell anyone about this." Blake nodded. Her dreams where plagued by his eyes, he pain in his eyes. He had thought she was dead. Why would he have thought that? Movement in the other room caught her attention. She grabbed her gun and moved silently. She saw Miranda trying to open the front door.

"What are you doing?" Patricia asked, making Miranda jump.

"I was trying to get some fresh air." She replied.

"Open a window then." Patricia was in no mood for games. "I can't have you risking everyone's safety just to get some air."

"Of course, you're right." Miranda agreed. She quickly passed Patricia and closed the door to her room. Gordon was sleeping on the couch.

"Gordon." Her voice was soft. He opened his eyes before reaching for his glasses.

"Is everyone ok?" He asked quickly.

"Everything is fine. I can't sleep. Why don't you take the bed, I'll stay on the couch."

"I couldn't allow you to do that." He said sincerely.

"Now is not a time for chivalry, sir. You're still healing and I'm not sleeping. Go a head." He smiled at her and she suddenly remembered the family in the DC airport. The kids looked like him. It must have been his wife and children. She decided to keep it to herself.

"Thank you, Patricia."

"Have a good sleep sir." She said as she leaned back against the couch. She slipped her gun under the pillow and stared out a window, hoping for sleep that wasn't likely to come.  
\- - - - - - - - - -

She was alive. Alive. Bane was pacing back and forth. Miranda had said she was dead. Why would she say that. She was alive, beautiful and alive. He was hoping for Miranda's call, but it never came.

"Sir." One of his men walked into the room. "I have those papers you asked for."

"Go on." Bane permitted. He had slowed his walking and his breathing, he didn't want to appear out of control.

"Patricia Robertson is an agent for MI6 in England." He started.

"MI6. Well, she's done well for herself." He paused. "Continue."

"She is the head of an anti-terrorism task force sir. Actually, it's primary goal is finding you."

"Is that right?" He allowed himself a small smile. "Thank you. Leave the papers." The man was quickly out of the room. After all that time she didn't stop looking for him. Now here she was. He would have given anything to hear her voice again, feel the touch of her hand again. Now she was in the city he was about to destroy. How could he let that happen? Miranda would know what to do. He had to put his faith in Miranda.

Patricia took to walking the streets during the days. Walking in shadow she avoided the soldiers, unsure if Bane would have warned them about her. Checking homes had become second nature to her, relocating those they had hidden and bringing food to the people who needed it had become her days. She left Gordon, Blake, and Miranda to find her own way around the city. When it came time to get the citizens out, she wanted to know her way around and be able ti move quickly. Almost all technology had been blocked. Any use of a cell phone would bring soldiers to you location almost instantly or the phone would be immediately turned off. They're we're stuck. They had two days and the army didn't realize the bomb was going off either way.

"Patricia!" His voice was panicked. Blake was running toward her, sweat on his brow.

"What's wrong?" She asked quickly.

"They got Gordon, Miranda, and a lot of the cops."

"How?!"

"We were marking the van, which we did." He caught his breath. "I was watching from a fire escape and a bunch of Bane's men surrounded them."

"Ok, just keep calm. How long do we have?" She asked and he looked at his watch.

"A little more than 20 hours." He replied.

"Ok, you get started on getting those cops out. I'm going to start rounding up as many people as possible and we're going to try to get people out of here."

"Meet me in about 12 hours, I'll need your help to get those men out." He took off and hopped into an abandoned car. Every person that dared come out in the streets, Patricia sent right back. She told them to pack a few things and be ready to leave tomorrow. She came across one man. His face was unshaven and he was carrying a bag on his back.

"Sir.." Patricia called, picking up the pace to meet him. She recognized his face almost immediately. "Mr. Wayne."

"You shouldn't be on these streets." He said quickly, trying to move around her. Patricia cut him off.

"I'm sorry sir, but you shouldn't be on these streets."

"What's your name?" He asked.

"Patricia Robertson, MI6."

"You're a long way from home." He stared at her, almost making me uncomfortable. "I remember you." He said quietly, studying her face. "You were younger then though."

"I'm sorry Mr. Wayne, I don't..."

"I pulled you out of a sea." Her eyes widened. A blurry memory came into focus. A much younger Bruce Wayne, saving her life.

"You..."

"I'm glad to see you've fully recovered, and flourished." He commented. "Why are you in Gotham?"

"Tracking Bane."

"It doesn't surprise me that MI6 would have a hand in this." He smiled and she couldn't help but smile back.

"Why were you there, Mr. Wayne. Crossing the Red Sea?"

"I was coming home from a long journey." He adjusted the strap on his bag. "Why were you there, floating?"

"I was looking for a friend. That apparently got in the way of someone else's plans." She remembered. Her body was still not fully recovered.

"You were pretty beat up. Did you find your friend?"

"No." She said quickly. Bruce could see her eyes turn dark. "I don't know if I ever will again."

"You'd be surprised what the future holds in store for most people." He started walking past her. "Be safe, Miss. Robertson."

"You as well, Mr. Wayne." Watching him turn a corner, she knew that he was nothing like anyone thought. The sun began to set on Gotham, possibly the last night Gotham would ever see. The wind picked up and Patricia hugged her jacket close to her and rounded a corner, but she stopped dead in her tracks. Bane's eyes were burning into hers.


	5. The Final Battle

Disclaimer: I do not own any Batman characters. They are the property of DC Comics. Please don't sue me. I only really own the character I made up, Patricia.

"I've been looking for you." His voice was different than it used to be. Immediately her gun was out and aimed at him. "You don't want to do that." He took a step forward.

"Stop. Don't take another step, Bane."

"Tricia..." His voice softened and he hated the way she said the name he had been using. "I thought you were dead." Bane's hands were at his sides and she couldn't make out a gun anywhere on his person.

"I came to the prison. I came to get you."

"I know. A friend told me." He said carefully.

"I was attacked and left to die, but I didn't."

"I was told you were attacked and killed." He said honestly.

"You didn't even try to find me?" She asked, her voice breaking.

"I saw a newspaper report about a British girl killed in the market place and people told me her body was dumped into a river."

"I was in a German hospital after being pulled out of a sea, beaten."

"Tricia..."

"Don't call me that!" She shouted. "After everything you've done, you don't get to call me that anymore." His eyes faltered, but only for a second.

"You have to leave this city." His voice was suddenly firm.

"Because it's going to blow up?" She asked. "Because you are going to kill millions of innocent people?"

"I can't stop it."

"Who's the trigger man?" She asked. "I know you didn't lie. Who is it?"

"I never forgot about you." He took another step forward and she took a step back.

"Stop, please. Don't make me." Her hands were shaking, but she steadied them, a finger on the trigger.

"I fell for a girl. She saved me from the prison. She and her family. She's been with me ever since." He had moved a little more forward.

"A girl..." Her mind raced back.

"The question is, who are you trying to free?" The girls voice and face echoed in her mind.

"Miranda..." Patricia whispered and she saw Bane's eyes raise. "Miranda has the trigger." She put her gun down and smiled.

"Thank you, Bane." She took off running and she couldn't hear his footsteps behind her. No one was following her, none of his men were chasing her. The question became: Did he want her to find out? Or, was it just too late to stop them?

Patricia made her way towards the place Blake asked her to meet him. A bright orange glow emanating from the bridge caught her attention. A bat symbol was burning brightly and a low roar of cheering was echoing among the tall buildings. She saw a massive amount of police and she allowed herself a small smile, at least one thing had gone right.

"Blake!" She called and the man turned around with a smile.

"Patricia the south tunnel is clear, I'm going to try to get people out across the bridge."

"Where's Miranda Tate?" Patricia asked desperately.

"Bane has her." Patricia groaned. "Why?"

"She's the trigger man."

"No..." He laughed in disbelief. "No, that's impossible. She's been with Wayne Enterprises. She-" "She knew how to arm the bomb. I saw Bane. He practically told me it was her."

"He's lying, Patricia."

"He wasn't, John." Blake rubbed his forehead. "Where is she?"

"The courthouse, I think." Blake was trying to concentrate as hard as he could. "That's been his base and he's trying to keep Miranda away from Batman, they're kind of, together."

"Batman? I thought Miranda Tate was seeing Bruce Wayne?" The look on his face was clear and she knew.

"Oh God. I have to go. Get out Blake as soon as you can." Looking down at her watch, she knew she only had about an hour before the bomb was going off. Early morning had come. She joined the large number of cops headed into the heart of Gotham. As Blake has suspected, Bane's soldiers were waiting outside the courthouse. She could see him standing on the steps, looking across all the police officers. A cannon on a camouflaged take was pointed at the center of the men, all wearing their blues. It was about to fire when, out of nowhere, a machine came flying over head, destroying the tank. The men cheered, a leader also hidden behind a mask giving them hope. They charged, giving everything they had, all the anger they had saved down in those sewers, waiting for daylight. Waiting for a chance to get back at the people who thought they controlled Gotham. Patricia charged with them. Bullets rained into them and several people fell before Bane's men ran to meet them. The sound of bodies being pushed together was like gravel. Everyone fighting with everything they had. A man charged Patricia, and she recognized him. He was with Bane when she first saw him in the library. He raised a machine gun, but Patricia was faster. She parried his gun to the side with her left arm, getting as close as possible. The closer she got, the less likely he could raise his weapon again. Using her right hand she punched him across the jaw, stunning him. The gun was hanging around his right shoulder. She put her left hand on the top front of the barrel and her right hand on the back bottom, flipping the gun in the air she caught it, pointed at him and fired. He and two other of Bane's men fell. She could see Bane at the front of the action, he was fighting Batman. They had moved from the bottom of the steps to the door of the courthouse door. Then, Patricia saw her. Miranda was staring out a window, watching Bane and Bruce intently. At that moment, the sound of concrete cracking brought her attention back to Bane. His mask was damaged and he was swinging wildly. She could see his eyes watering and she knew she had to get up there as quickly as possible. Getting just a few feet in the middle of the soldiers and police was exhausting. She looked at her watch for a moment, a little over 12 minutes. She pulled a soldier off of a cop wearing dress blues when the door burst open and Miranda came running out. She climbed into a tank and its guns pointed at the crowd. Patricia dove out of the way and watched the tank speed off. Frantically looking around she saw a motorcycle. It once belonged to a solider and Patricia knew she didn't want her to get away. She jumped on and sped after the tank. After a few moments another bike was beside hers. This however, was much more technologically advanced. It was being driven by someone wearing, Patricia could only describe it as, latex paint. They eyed each other for a moment before turning their attention back to the tank in front of them. Miranda had climbed out of the tank and into the truck which, Patricia guessed, was carrying the bomb. The first tank and another stayed behind the truck. The same flying machine Patricia saw earlier few over the tanks quickly blowing one up. She could see that it was the same man flying that Bane fought earlier, Batman. Her mind wandered to what had happened to Bane, but she had to concentrate. Three missiles were fired towards Batman and the machine twisted and turned avoiding the explosions and sending the missiles into buildings. With a last missile left he flew close to the ground, making the second tank take the brunt of a very powerful explosion, blowing it off course. He pulled in front of the truck and Patricia pulled up alongside it. She could see Miranda, a phone in her hand. The sound seemed to cease as Patricia jumped from the bike and grabbed a hold of the side of the truck. She opened the door and climbed in. Miranda's eyes were wide. The driver was panicking.

"Shit!" Miranda shouted before putting the phone she was on down.

"Remember me?" Patricia asked. Her hand connected with Miranda's jaw and a bruise started forming.

"You're precious Dominic is dead, has been for years, and Bane is dying."

"You never cared about him." Patricia replied, disgusted. An explosion shook them. Batman was firing low level missiles at the truck, trying to make it turn.

"Stay straight!" Miranda screamed, but the drivers fear was too much for him. Patricia saw him slump over. She looked out the window and knew she only had a few seconds.

"You'll never win. You'll die." Patricia jumped out of the passenger door and rolled. She came down hard on her shoulder and she felt it pop. The last image she had of the truck was it going over a barrier into a level below. She knew Miranda couldn't have survived. Standing up she popped her shoulder back in and ran towards the abandoned motorcycle. She pulled it up and tried starting it, but she heard nothing.

"Please." She said quietly before trying again to start it. Nothing. She looked up to see Batman flying back towards the bay, the bomb hanging off his machine by a steel tether. She watched him fly above a building and out of sight. If he didn't hurry, they would all be gone. With one last try the bike sprung to life and she jumped on, moving as quickly as she could back to the courthouse. The steps were red, but most of the soldiers had been rounded up. She flung open the doors and Bane was laying across the room. He was slumped against a wall and she could see a blood trail from where he must have fallen.

"Bane." She ran over and his eyes looked up at her but he seemed lost. He had a phone next to him.

"Miranda." He called. No one replied.

"She's dead, Bane." Patricia said, hiding tears. "She's dead. Gone. Never coming back."

"What did you do?"

"She crashed the tank carrying the bomb."

"She saved me from that prison."

"Only because she tried to kill me!" Patricia was screaming.

"Why would you say something like that?" He asked, his voice weak.

"I was attacked in the market place. After seeing her. I told her I was looking for Dominic. She said she wasn't going to let me get you. She snapped her fingers, guys surrounded me, and the next thing I knew I was being saved by Bruce Wayne from a sea." Bane screamed and his arm covered his chest. Patricia pulled his arm away and all she could see was a bloody shirt and body armor. "I have to get this off." He didn't fight her. "What happened?"

"A shot from something. I don't know what." He answered. His breath was getting weak. "I swear, she told me you were dead. She showed me the news article. Tricia I would have never."

"She lied to you."

"She lied to me..." He repeated. For the first time she looked up at him, really looked at him. Those eyes, they weren't Bane's.

"Dominic..." Patricia said softly. "I've been looking for you for years."

"I'm so sorry." He replied. Tears were freely falling down his face. She finally got the shirt and armor off, remembering to leave his belt. What she saw almost made her sick. Layers of his skin were gone and he was losing a lot of blood. Patricia immediately took off her jacket and pressed it to him. Screaming was coming from outside, the words flooded through the open doors.

"Batman did it! He saved us. He gave his life to save us!" Everyone was cheering and crying. Patricia bowed her head.

"Why did you do this?" She asked.

"I was so lost when you were gone." He started. "I-I didn't know what I had to live for anymore. Talia and Raz taught me to have no emotion. To feel only anger, only hate. Without you, there was no reason to feel love anymore."

"We need to get you help." Patricia said, looking at his stomach.

"My punishment should be to die." He said, pain in his voice.

"I'm not letting you die." Patricia said stubbornly.

"Tricia..."

"Stop it, please. I am not letting you die. I let Dominic die once. I finally have him back and he's not going anywhere." They were silent for a moment. "You have to try to stand up. We have to get you out the back, get you some help."

"Stop!" The man's voice sounded angry and betrayed. "How can you help him?" John Blake had a gun pointed at Bane and his hands were shaking. "Don't you remember what he did? Don't you care?"

"John please listen to me." Patricia stood up slowly, her hands raised. He took several steps forward quickly and Patricia moved herself in front of him. "If you shoot him, you have to shoot me."

"He's a terrorist. He killed a lot of people!"

"I know, John." Her voice was pleading. "I know you lost someone. I know how much it killed you inside. How angry you were. The pain of not being able to do something." Patricia took a deep breath. "I lost my best friend when I was 17 years old. His name was Dominic. He was taken to pay a debt owed by his father. I met Dominic when I was 7 years old and I didn't spend more than a few hours away from him." John's eyes lingered on Bane. "John." His eyes turned back to her. "I fell in love when I was eight and when Dominic needed me I left. He was being chased and we ran, we ran as far and as fast as we could, but they caught us. They took Dominic from me."

"What does this have to do with any-"

"I found Dominic almost 10 years ago. He had been put in a prison. Only someone didn't want me to find him. When I got close I was attacked, beaten, left for dead. Dominic was freed by the wrong people. The boy who saved me countless times, survived hell to find me, was told I was killed." John's eyes softened. "Raz Al Gul and Talia Al Gul took my everything and killed him, or tried to. They tried to take everything good and brought out something dark in him. They called it Bane." John's eyes looked rapidly from the man lying on the ground to the woman in front of him. A woman he had come to know and trust.

"He's done awful things."

"I know." Patricia said. "But please, John, don't take him away from me again. He's harmless. He's injured and he may be dying. I need your help." John sighed and looked at her.

"Justice is corrupt in its best sense. I don't trust him, but I trust you... There is a door in the back. I will get a car and you two will get far away from here, do you understand?" Patricia nodded. Blake left the courthouse shutting the door behind him.

"Come on, we have to go," She pulled him to his feet and tried to help him out the back door. Just getting there left a trail of blood behind them. She pushed the door open and Blake was there. Against all of his better instincts he put his arm around Bane and helped him to a dark SUV.

"Police won't be swarming the north tunnel yet." He helped put Bane in the back seat before covering him with a large blanket before closing the door.

"Thank you, John." Patricia said softly.

"You'll repay me one day." They hugged quickly and she walked around to the driver's side, opening the door. "Patricia."

"Yeah?"

"Please be careful." Blake eyed the back seat and Patricia nodded. She drove as quickly as she could, dodging debris, and abandoned cars.

"Tricia..." She heard him call.

"Stay down, love. I'm going to get you some help." Once out of the city she picked up her cell phone. It was working perfectly again. She placed a call.

"Agent Robertson. In need of medical personal, nqa." She paused. "Wound to the abdomen, severe. Patient has older wounds, severe spine troubles. In need of anesthetic." Another pause. "ETA, five minutes." She hung up the phone. "Just stay with me, Dominic. Stay with me."

"How did you do that?" He asked.

"Being on the better side of the law has its own perks." She pulled into a hotel and immediately three men had Bane out of the SUV and into a hotel room. Patricia could have gone into another room, but she waited. The put him out and a doctor went to work stitching his stomach. It took over three hours.

"How is he?" Patricia asked nervously.

"He's going to be fine." The man said calmly. "I don't know why you had us fix him up if the army is just going to torture him anyway."

"We have to be kind to prisoners." Patricia remarked.

"Before we break them?" The doctor asked with a laugh. "I ordered three cases of the anesthetic to be taken with him, wherever they take him, not that they'll give it to him."

"Thanks doc." The doctor left the room and Bane opened his eyes. She knew he wasn't sleeping.

"You had planned to turn me in." He said, angry but with understanding. His mask was off.

"No." She replied simply and he looked confused.

"If you don't they'll -"

"Track me down?" She finished his sentence. "I've been on the run before."

"Tricia.."

"I promised I wasn't going to leave you. I'm not. No matter what. Now we have supplies." She remarked. He followed her gaze and saw 4 bags. 1 of clothes, 1 of medicine, and 2 full of money, all thousand dollar bills. She laid next to him and laid her arm across his chest. He immediately grabbed her arm and kissed her hand.

"Your skin is as soft as I remember." He remarked. "Tricia if you do this you're life will not be anywhere near what it was."

"No it won't, but I made a promise. Until I can get you out of this, I'm staying."

"I meant what I said when those men took me." His eyes were staring into hers. "I'm not letting anyone take me from you again."

"Just rest. We have years." She saw him smile. She knew it wasn't Bane, Bane was gone. It was just Dominic. Just the same eyes and smile she had been in love with since she had seen them.


End file.
